


Laughter Lines

by capsiclewidow



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), F/M, Natasha Romanov deserved better, Time Travel Fix-It, rating for very mild language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 05:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20003347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capsiclewidow/pseuds/capsiclewidow
Summary: “How does it feel?”Sam took a long, hard breath and lowered the shield, meeting Steve’s gaze again. “Like it’s someone else’s.”“It isn’t.”A grin spread across Sam’s face that warmed Steve’s heart. “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”“That’s why it’s yours.” Steve reached over and took Sam’s hand, then brought his other one to rest on top of it. Sam got distracted, staring down at his hand. He nodded towards the ring on his finger that sparkled in the sunlight.“You wanna tell me about that?” he asked carefully, and Steve breathed out a laugh.“No, I don’t think I will.”Inspiration comes from the song Laughter Lines by Bastille.





	Laughter Lines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [natasharomanovs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natasharomanovs/gifts).



> Special shout out to [Niki](https://natasharomanoff.tumblr.com), who pointed the song out to me and also came up with the entire idea for this. <3
> 
> I know it's been out for a while and I don't think it needs to be said that this contains heavy Endgame spoilers, but if you haven't seen the movie yet for whatever reason, read at your own risk. Russian translations at the end and are all the result of google translate, so apologies for any inaccuracies.

_I’ll see you in the future when we’re older_

_And we are full of stories to be told_

_Cross my heart and hope to die_

_I’ll see you with your laughter lines_

APRIL 2023

“Cap?”

Steve smiled at the sound of his voice, one he hadn’t heard in _so_ many years. “Hi, Sam.”

He glanced up at Sam, who was eyeing him carefully. “You look...”

“Like I’m a hundred and eighty-three years old?” Steve answered for him, huffing out a laugh. Sam gaped at him for a second as the words sunk in.

“I mean, looking at you I’d guess like, what…forty-five?”

“Take care of your skin, Wilson.” Steve reached over and patted lightly Sam on the arm. He just rolled his eyes.

“So…did something go _wrong_ , or did something go right?” he asked with a careful smile. Steve shrugged.

“Well, Natasha was always telling me I needed to get a life, so after putting the stones back I thought…why not?”

Sam’s smile faded at the mention of her name, and Steve gave himself a moment to remember this day the first time he lived it. God, things were so _different_. It was the day after her funeral, a much quieter affair than Tony’s had been. Just him, Sam and Wanda, Bucky, Nick and Maria, Pepper and Morgan, Bruce, Thor, Clint and his family. A big ceremony didn’t seem right, she’d have hated it. She wouldn’t have wanted that. So instead they’d just sat outside by the lake at Tony and Pepper’s, sharing a bottle of her favorite vodka, telling stories - most of them about her, some of them not - while Steve sat silently, watching and listening, trying to hold himself together until everyone left.

He’d been an absolute _wreck_ , and Bucky could tell. He sat quietly by his side, not contributing either, letting Steve grasp his hand whenever it became too much. That night - well, _last_ night, technically - he’d made the decision that he was going to be the one to return the stones, and it had to be as soon as possible. He needed the distraction, and he needed to be the one to return the soul stone. He needed the chance to say goodbye.

“How’d that work out for you?”

Steve averted his gaze, staring out into the lake instead, a smile spreading across his lips when his eyes fell on the small shadow by the water.

“It was beautiful.”

“I’m happy for you. Truly,” Sam insisted.

“Thank you,” he replied with a soft smile. Then he turned to the bag at his side and moved it to sit on the ground between the two of them. “I have something for you.” He unzipped the bag, and the red vibranium shone brightly in the sunlight. He glanced back up at Sam, nodding towards the bag. “Try it on.”

Sam’s smile faded again, and he glanced behind him to where Steve knew Bucky was watching before hesitantly leaning down and sliding the shield out of its carrier. He shot Steve one last look, like he was waiting for him to change his mind, then carefully slipped his arm behind the straps. He adjusted it, getting used to the weight, and stared down at it with a storm of emotion raging through his eyes.

“How does it feel?”

Sam took a long, hard breath and lowered the shield, meeting Steve’s gaze again. “Like it’s someone else’s.”

“It isn’t.”

A grin spread across Sam’s face that warmed Steve’s heart. “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s why it’s yours.” Steve reached over and took Sam’s hand, then brought his other one to rest on top of it. Sam got distracted, staring down at his hand. He nodded towards the ring on his finger that sparkled in the sunlight.

“You wanna tell me about that?” he asked carefully, and Steve breathed out a laugh. He could hear her behind him, talking lowly with Bucky, but Sam must not have noticed yet.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

AUGUST 2014

“Steven, son of Sarah.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He was _so_ not in the mood.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here to return this piece of shit.”

He walked straight past Johann Schmidt - or what was left of him, anyway - but the second he turned the corner and an ice cold breeze hit his face, he stopped dead in his tracks.

This was where she’d died.

The ledge seemed to go on forever, but he knew it didn’t. He knew the giant piece of rock he was standing on ended, he knew how far down it went, and he knew there was a good chance her body was still down there, still warm, still lying in a pool of blood.

This was a mistake. He couldn’t do this.

“No one has ever returned the soul stone, Captain,” Schmidt’s voice said behind him.

Steve reached into the pocket of his belt and pulled out the stone. He should have kept it in the case with the others, but something about it…it called to him. Which sounded completely stupid, but he was currently standing on a foreign planet in a completely different galaxy next to the ghost of the Red Skull in the year 2014, and he was so _tired_ of trying to make sense of things. Especially now, when only days ago he’d been traveling through time and fighting an army of aliens from a past decade.

He couldn’t explain it, but this stone wasn’t like the others. He’d left the padded metal case with himself, Scott, and Tony in 2012, transferring the space stone to a smaller box that he could carry in his belt for his last stop. They had to be careful with them, couldn’t touch them directly or risk being destroyed by the power they held. But this one…?

His fingers curled into a fist around the stone, the warm feeling that emanated from it contrasting with the shiver that ran down his spine.

“No one’s ever taken it, either,” he shot back finally.

“No one has been willing to make the sacrifice.”

“She was.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care. He turned on the Red Skull and glared at him. His face was just as ugly as he remembered, and no amount of preparation had readied him for seeing it again. Clint had warned him, and he knew what to expect, but seeing him up close…was something else. “She gave up _everything_ for this stupid rock.”

“It was her choice,” Schmidt reminded him evenly. Steve let out an irritated huff and turned away from him again, staring at the ledge once more.

“I know,” he shot back. “But she didn’t think she had one. That’s the problem.”

Schmidt didn’t answer. Steve wasn’t sure why he was telling him all of this anyway. Johann Schmidt didn’t deserve to know anything about Natasha. He didn’t deserve to hear about how incredible she was, how selfless. How strong and beautiful she was, how she’d saved trillions of lives, at the very least. He didn’t deserve to know how much Steve missed her, or about how goddamn _proud_ he was of her, how angry he was that it had come to this, or how wrong she’d been to think sacrificing her life, her _soul_ , was the only way to make up for the things she’d done.

He didn’t deserve to know how much he loved her.

So he walked away from him, forcing his feet to move towards the edge of the cliff. With each step his heart ached more and more, and when he came to a stop at the edge, it became almost unbearable. Before he could steady himself he collapsed, falling hard to his knees, staring out into the cloudy abyss.

This stone, the one that practically vibrated in his hand, was one two things he had left of her. The compound had been destroyed, and took every single one of her belongings with it. The clothes that smelled like her, her collection of ballet slippers hanging in the gym, her laptop, the necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday one year, the little notepads she’d carry around with her scribbling notes in. He’d also lost his sketchbooks filled with drawings of her, all of the photos from the polaroid camera she’d found for him at an antique store once, all of the t-shirts and sweaters and flannels of his that she’d stolen and worn around the compound.

The only other thing he had left was the ring, his mother’s, the one he’d given her the night before she died. The one that she’d slipped on her finger and told him he’d get his answer when they got their family back, that he’d later found sitting on top of their dresser with a folded up piece of paper after they’d all come home without her. He’d carried the ring with him in a secure pocket of his suit, so it survived the battle.

He hadn’t been able to read the note at first. Now he never would.

Steve lifted his hand and uncurled his fist to stare down at the glowing rock sitting in his palm. It had a slight green undertone to it, something he hadn’t noticed until now. It reminded him of her eyes, how they were flecked with little bits of a deep gold that sparkled brightly in the sunlight.

It suddenly became too much, too overwhelming. The stone blurred in front of him and he blinked furiously, fresh anger and regret and sadness all bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Before he could think about what he was doing he raised his hand and flung the stone off the edge of the cliff with every ounce of strength he could muster from the serum coursing through his veins.

And then everything went white.

_Steve_.

Her voice echoed through his mind, so crisp and clear that she could be standing right next to him, but too far away at the same time. It sent an ache through his chest and he squeezed his eyes further shut instead of opening them.

Clint told him this might happen. He’d woken up at the bottom of the mountain in a pool of water with the stone in his hand, having no idea how he’d gotten there. The last thing he’d remembered…

Steve couldn’t think about that.

Finally he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He was staring at the sky, a mix of deep purples and pale pinks and glowing oranges that reminded him of the stone he’d just given up, all diluted by thick clouds of mist. And he was definitely soaked, the cold water drenching his uniform and sending a shiver straight through to his bones.

“Steve?”

His view was obstructed by a flash of red. Red and blonde, and pale, flushed skin and bright green eyes that were flecked with gold and sparkling with tears.

Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but push himself upright and stare at Natasha. He reached out a shaking hand and let his fingers brush lightly against her cheek, and she was there and she was real and she was…she was _alive_ and breathing and _real_.

He opened his mouth to say her name, but all that came out was a heavy sob, and a split second later he was grabbing ahold of her and pulling him into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, shivering and grasping at the front of his uniform. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could without crushing her for fear she would disappear if he didn’t.

“You…you’re… _how_?” he breathed against her skin. She just shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she replied softly, and her voice was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

He pulled back enough to look her in the eyes, sliding his hands up her body, over her shoulders and the back of her head, searching for injuries. She was completely _fine_ , not a single wound or broken bone, not even a scratch. He finally let his hands rest on each side of her face, brushing away the tears streaming down her cheeks with his thumbs. She blurred in front of him, his own tears filling his eyes too quickly for him to blink away.

“Natasha…” He had so many things to tell her, so many things he’d regretted not saying the last time he’d seen her, grinning up from where she stood next to him on that platform, eyes glittering with anxious excitement that he later discovered was an attempt to hide the knowledge that she wasn’t coming back. “That was the longest minute of my life,” he came up with finally, and she let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sliding one of her hands up to cup his face in her palm, rubbing the pad of her thumb across his cheek like she always did to calm him down. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d try to stop me, and I couldn’t let you…I…I had to…“

“I know.” She trailed off, pulling her trembling bottom lip under her teeth. “We won, Nat. It worked.” Her eyes widened, glazing over with fresh tears, and the grin that spread across her face shone brighter than the infinity stone she’d sacrificed herself for in the first place. “It was you. You brought them back.”

“Steve,” she countered incredulously, shaking her head. “I didn’t, I can’t take cred-“

“Don’t,” he said, cutting her off. “I never want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay?” She bit her lip again, but didn’t respond. “ _You_ did that, Nat…you saved the world.”

“And you saved _me_ ,” she breathed. Steve leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and smiling just at the feeling of having her in his arms again. 

“Always.”

She leaned her head up and pressed her lips softly to his in response. “Now what, Captain?”

“I have one more stone to return,” he said, pushing her hair back from her face when she leaned back.

“Anywhere cool?”

“Nah. You’ve been there before.” He realized she had no idea he and Tony had gone to the 70s, and winced. “We, uh…had a complication in New York.”

Natasha furrowed her brows, her face contorting into that _look_ , the one of mildly irritated but amused disappointment that she often got when around the team. “Of course you did.”

“It’s a long story.” She just rolled her eyes, her lips curving upwards into a little sideways smile. “How do you feel about a trip to New Jersey?”

“Well _those_ are words I never thought I’d hear come from your mouth,” she muttered. “What year?”

“1970.”

And then suddenly it hit him. The smile faded from his lips, and her brows furrowed with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I only have two vials,” he replied softly. That feeling came back, the one that sent an ache of despair radiating through his chest that he’d become all too familiar with in the last week. “I only had enough to return the stones.”

“I still have one,” she offered weakly, but he could still tell by the look in her eyes that she knew what it meant. He couldn’t rely on stealing more Pym Particles, especially since Camp Lehigh was so heavily guarded and he had to prioritize getting the stone back without being seen by Howard or Peggy. Natasha reached into a pocket on her belt to pull out the vial, but glanced up at him helplessly before he saw the piece of broken glass she had in her hand instead. “Shit.”

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice shaking as the reality of the situation settled in. “You take one of mine and go home. I’ll-“

“No.”

“ _Natasha_ ,” he sighed. “You’ve done enough, okay? I can’t-“

“I’m going with you,” she cut in firmly. “We go together or not at all. No more solo ops.” She reached up and rested her hand on the side of his face again. “We’re partners, remember?”

“Nat…if you go with me-“

“I know.”

“I don’t know if I can get any more Particles. We’ll be stuck.”

“I _know_.”

He studied her for a second, trying to focus despite how adorable she was, her eyes wild with determination - not that he’d ever tell her that for fear of receiving a punch in the face - and finally took a long breath.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Steve let his gaze linger on her for a few seconds before pulling out the two remaining vials from a pocket in his belt. She took one and they activated their quantum suits before securing the particles into the compartment on the side. He began typing in the coordinates for her, but suddenly she grabbed his hand to stop him.

“What?”

“What if we don’t go to 1970,” she said slowly. He narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. “Just…hear me out. The important thing is that we get to that army base at the right time and replace the stone. Right? But what if…we go back further.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What if…” She hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure how he’d react. “What if we go back to the forties?”

He just gaped at her. “ _What?_ ”

“We can save James.” Steve opened his mouth to object, but she didn’t let him. “We can stop Hydra.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Nat. You know what Bruce said-“

“He has just as much experience time traveling as we do,” she reminded him, and he sighed. “Even if it…I don’t know, creates an alternate timeline…we can still save him.”

“There’s so much that could go _wrong_ ,” he insisted, but she was determined.

“Steve, you and I both know that was always the first thing you’d do if you were able to go back,” she said softly. She wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t even thought about it, because they were too focused on the stones. “You trust me?”

“Of course I do,” he replied quickly. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Wouldn’t we know if it changed our timeline though?”

“Not necessarily. Not if we haven’t made the decision yet.”

This had such a huge chance of backfiring.

“Okay.”

Now she was watching _him_ carefully, and she let the hand on his wrist slide to grasp his tightly instead. “Are you sure?”

“You think you can live without your phone for a few decades?” She just rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth curved upwards.

“Can _you?_ ”

“At least we’ll know to invest in Apple,” he muttered, going back to setting their coordinates, and she huffed out a laugh. “Bucky died in March of 1945, but SHIELD wasn’t officially founded until 1949.” He paused, thinking hard. “We’re going to need help.”

“Peggy?” she asked softly, and Steve took a deep breath, nodding.

“At the very least. We’ll need to be careful with who knows I’m alive. She’ll have access to their databases, and a direct line to Zola.”

“And if we’re going to take down Hydra before it starts growing, she’ll have to be the one to stop it.”

“Exactly.” He set the coordinates to New York City, but couldn’t decide on a year. They needed Zola, but SHIELD needed to be established enough that they would have connections and resources. He also thought of Peggy, who had an entire life after he went into the ice. They couldn’t disrupt that. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if they did. So he typed in 1950 - the year after she got married and became the official director of SHIELD - and glanced back up at Natasha. “One last chance to back out, Romanoff. You sure about this?”

“Yeah.” She shot him an anxious grin that reminded him of the one she gave him the last time they saw each other. “It’ll be fun.”

He just huffed out a laugh and leaned in to kiss her again before their helmets snapped into place and they were yanked into the portal.

OCTOBER 1950

“You ready?”

“No.”

Natasha reached over and slid her fingers between his where his hand sat fidgeting on his knee. He glanced over at her, and she gave him a reassuring nod.

“How about now?”

“No.”

She snorted out a laugh and let go of his hand, averting her gaze to check her reflection in the mirror. She’d cut off all the blonde at the end of her hair, and it now fell to sit right above her shoulders in loose waves, her bangs pulled back with a clip to keep them out of her face. She smoothed her hand down her hair and did one last swipe across her bottom lip to ensure her bright red lipstick hadn’t smudged, then shot him an impatient look.

“It’s now or never, Rogers.”

Steve swallowed thickly, having been momentarily distracted by how absolutely _stunning_ she was, and nodded.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Steve let Natasha lead the way up to the little yellow house they’d been sitting in front of for a good fifteen minutes. He stared at the front door for a few long seconds, suddenly _very_ much regretting thi _s_ , until Natasha let out an impatient huff and knocked on the door. When it swung open Steve suddenly couldn’t breathe, could only stand there, gaping at Peggy.

She was just as he’d remembered her, bright red lips and her hair hanging loosely around her face, wide, curious eyes, her hands on her hips as she eyed Natasha. He was partially hidden behind the door, so she hadn’t noticed him yet, and her hand twitched behind her for the pistol he was sure she had tucked in the waistband of her skirt.

“Can I help you?”

“Agent Carter. You can, actually,” Natasha replied easily, nodding towards Steve. “I believe you know my friend?”

For the first time, Peggy’s eyes flicked over to his. And then she froze.

He’d imagined this moment a thousand times; not so much lately, but after waking up from the ice, it was the only thing he could think about some days. He’d imagine what he’d say to her, what he’d do, the kind of life they would have had. About the date he’d missed, the dance he owed her. He knew she’d laugh at his eagerness, cry tears of joy and they’d live out their lives in happiness, the way he thought it should have been.

Of course, things had changed since then. He’d moved past that, accepted the fact that she’d moved on and lived a long, fulfilling life with her husband and two kids and nieces and nephews and grandkids. She’d had a successful career, and she’d been _happy_. It took a while, and seeing her mind slowly slipping away from her all those years had hurt, but he got there eventually. And once he had, he’d saw what he’d been too distracted to notice before, realized what he had right in front of him the whole time. Discovered what it felt like to fall in love for _real_ , real enough to recognize it for what it was.

“ _Steve?_ ” Peggy breathed, and he offered her an anxious smile.

“Hey, Peg.” She could only stare at him, her mouth gaping open, rendered speechless for probably the first time in her life. “I’m, uh…alive,” he stammered awkwardly.

“Real smooth, Rogers,” Natasha muttered beside him. Peggy finally tore her teary eyes away from Steve to glance back over at Natasha.

“I…think you have some explaining to do, Captain,” she said finally, taking a long, shaky breath and stepping back to allow them inside. Steve chuckled nervously, following Natasha as she passed through the door.

“I, uh…yeah. A lot of it.”

Peggy sat them down in the living room and hurried to the kitchen in a near frenzy, insisting on making them tea. When she disappeared into the kitchen Natasha shot him a worried glance, which he returned with a small smile.

“You alright?” she asked softly, and he reached over, sliding his fingers between hers and squeezing.

“Yeah.” She gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing him back before pulling her hand back to settle in her lap. Peggy came back not much later, rattling on nervously about how her husband would be home soon and he was going to be absolutely _thrilled_ to meet him, and did he know that he’d saved his life during the war? Finally, when they had both sat their steaming cups on the coffee table, they started at the beginning, answering the question Steve knew she’d been begging to ask: how he was still alive.

They’d decided beforehand to be honest with her. For this to work, she’d have to know enough to understand what they’d experienced. They spared her most of the details, but still explained how they came to show up here: there was a catastrophic event that they couldn’t explain yet, time travel was a reality, and they’d managed to save the day but had to return something in 1970 so as not to disrupt the timeline. They’d also told her they most likely stuck without a way back to their own time, at least for the foreseeable future, and decided to use it to their advantage. She sat silently, asking a question here and there, but mostly listening and trying to comprehend what they were saying.

“But why did you come _here_ ,” she asked finally. Steve glanced hesitantly over at Natasha, and she nodded.

“Bucky,” he said carefully, and Peggy raised an eyebrow at him, the same look he’d been on the receiving end of more times than he could count. “I know. But he’s alive. Hydra has him.”

“ _Hydra?_ Steve-“

“They’re still active.” Peggy just gaped at him. “SHIELD is currently working with Arnim Zola, correct?”

“Yes,” she replied carefully, and he could see the gears turning in her mind, trying to make the connection.

“In 2014, Hydra is going to try to take over. They’d been embedded inside SHIELD since the beginning.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Natasha added, when Peggy could only stare at them with a horrified look on her face. “To save Barnes from them and take them down from the inside before they can grow.”

“I _told_ Howard consulting with him was a terrible idea,” she muttered under her breath. “That man…”

“Tony was the exact same way,” Steve replied with a sad chuckle that died the second he saw the harsh look Natasha had given him at the mention of his name.

“Who?”

“Uh-“

“Stark’s son,” Natasha explained with an irritated sigh that was weighted down by the regret in her voice. It was still fresh for her, and she had been much closer to Tony than Steve ever was. They’d tried to think of a way to bring him back, but the consequences were just too great.

“Howard is _married!?_ ”

Steve winced. “Not yet. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

Peggy let out an overwhelmed sigh. “I don’t think you were supposed to tell me _any_ of it.” She lifted her eyes to meet his, and shook her head. “I still can’t quite believe you’re here, to be honest. It’s…it was a rough few years, after you died.”

“I know.” Steve averted his gaze, regret prickling at the back of his mind. It felt odd to feel guilty about hurting _himself_ , knowing that the angry, confused, overwhelmed version of him that was going to wake up in sixty-two years would have been irate if he found out he was sitting in Peggy’s living room right now and didn’t plan on finding him. It also felt odd that he knew _exactly_ where his body was at that very second, suspended in a frozen hell, with a long way to go before he was found.

Natasha stood suddenly, reaching over and briefly squeezing Steve’s hand before excusing herself to find the restroom. She was giving them their moment, he knew she was. He’d been dreading this for days, ever since they’d figured out where she lived and began planning what to say to her.

“So, you and…Natasha, was it?”

Steve smiled, forcing himself out of his own mind and focusing on Peggy again.

“Yeah.” She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at him and shook her head.

“You _do_ have a type, don’t you?”

Steve huffed out a laugh and dropped his gaze to the floor, his ears warm. “I suppose I do.”

“Despite, well… _everything_ ,” she began, and he glanced back up when she hesitated. “You _are_ happy?”

“Yeah.” His mouth curved up into an involuntary grin. “I really am.”

“I’m glad you were able to find that again,” she said softly.

“You too.” Finally he stood, crossing the room and holding his hand out, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. “But I believe I still owe you a dance.”

Peggy’s lips, bright red just as he remembered, curved up into a smile and she took his hand, allowing him to pull her up from her chair. He guided her to the middle of the room, adjusting their hands and letting his other fall to her waist. Then he began moving, turning her around the room to the beat of the record that she’d had playing softly in the background when they’d arrived.

“I’m impressed, Captain,” she said after a few minutes. “Looks like you found your partner after all.”

“Nat’s a good teacher,” he said, grinning down at her. “She’s a dancer,”

“I’m teaching him ballet next,” came Natasha’s voice from the doorway.

“Now _that_ I’d like to see,” Peggy said as they fell away from each other, and Steve rolled his eyes, shooting Natasha an amused grin. She just smirked at him, pushing herself upright from where she’d been leaning against the doorframe.

“Regretting this already, Rogers?”

“Might join myself in the ice if you two are going to gang up on me for the next seventy years,” he muttered under his breath, and Peggy huffed out a laugh.

“Still just as dramatic, I see,” she observed.

“It’s getting worse in his old age,” Natasha agreed.

Steve just shook his head, but still huffed out a laugh.

APRIL 2023

“Hey fellas.”

Steve glanced up at Sam, just to see his reaction. Natasha approached them, her lips curved up into an amused grin as Sam spun around to gape at her.

“What?” he breathed, glancing incredulously between the two of them. “You’re… _what?”_

“Miss me?” she asked, her voice softening, and Sam just laughed, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I mean, it’s only been a couple weeks for me, but _hell_ yeah I did,” he replied. He pulled back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “How are you here?”

“We’re still not entirely sure, but we think returning the stone acted as another sacrifice,” Steve answered, standing from his spot on the bench. “A soul for a soul.”

Bucky had followed Natasha, and Sam’s eyes fell on him. He’d been watching the exchange silently with an amused grin. Sam frowned at him.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“Of _course_ I did,” Bucky muttered lowly. He was messing with him, of course. Bucky knew everything, knew what his original fate had been and what Steve and Natasha had given up in order to give him the life he deserved. He didn’t look much older than the two of them, thanks to the knockoff serum flowing through his veins.

“Do you remember how we met?” Steve asked, and Sam shot him a confused look.

“What?”

“Answer the question, Wilson,” Bucky demanded lightly. Sam ignored him.

“SHIELD recruited me in 2014,” he said, and then his eyes widened. “Are you telling me-“

“A story for another time,” Steve said, cutting him off with a pat on his shoulder. He caught movement behind them out of the corner of his eye, then glanced over at Natasha, adding softly, “Your turn.”

He nodded towards Clint, who’d been coming to see what was going on and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw them. Natasha sucked in a sharp breath and spun around.

“Holy shit,” Clint breathed, and a split second later Natasha was sprinting across the yard and into his arms.

It had been rough at first, once it really sank in how long it would be before she’d see him again. He hadn’t even been _born_ yet when they’d landed in New York all those years ago, and even though it got better in the decades between then and now, it was still hard for her when he was recruited for SHIELD and she’d had to keep her distance.

After Peggy and her husband Daniel helped them cut off the last head of Hydra and free Bucky from their grasp, they’d flown under the radar, careful not to attract any unwanted attention. Damage had already been done, but it didn’t take Bucky long to bounce back, as Zola’s technology was nothing compared to what decades of torture, abuse, and increasingly effective technological advances had done to his mind. They’d moved to the city, using the cash Steve had pulled out of his savings before he left to return the stones to purchase a spacious three bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. He hadn’t been sure he’d be coming back and wanted to be prepared. It definitely worked out in their favor.

It took another twelve years for Natasha to finally agree to marry him. It was small, nothing more than a gathering on the newly-finished Brooklyn Promenade on an unseasonably warm evening in May, overlooking the Manhattan skyline. It was just them, Bucky, Peggy and Daniel; but despite Sam, Wanda, the Bartons, and the rest of their friends not being in attendance, it was still perfect.

For the years following, after Bucky was ready, the three of them operated under the radar, taking leads from Peggy under the table that SHIELD wasn’t able to pursue. It worked great for a long time, and even though it was rough without the rest of their team, it eventually started feeling like _home_.

Finally, once the internet came around and Peggy retired and Clint was recruited at SHIELD, they decided to call it quits. They’d known the day would come when they’d need to fall off the grid, especially with Steve being found in the ice quickly approaching. Bucky decided to leave and, knowing everything, was able to be there for Steve when he woke up. He was there for the Battle of New York, he was there to ensure Steve met Sam in 2014 so SHIELD could recruit him, he was there when Ultron attacked. Steve would never forget the day he came to visit them at their little apartment in London, where they’d been staying at the time, barged into the kitchen in the middle of dinner, glared at Natasha and practically _shouted_ at her for going after Banner. Natasha laughed so hard she’d almost fallen off her chair.

And then, inevitably, the Sokovia Accords happened. They hadn’t heard from Bucky in months, only knew what they’d seen in the news, when he’d showed up at their tiny apartment in Zurich one night, looking utterly exhausted with hair grown down to his shoulders and a thick beard. Zemo still emerged from out of nowhere, dead set on destroying the Avengers. They assumed that, due to the drastic changes in Bucky’s past, they’d be able to avoid most of the fallout between the Avengers. However, much to Steve’s horror, he’d still been able to manipulate them with the revelation that with Hydra out of the way, the Red Room had been able to go after Howard’s serum themselves in an attempt to expand their Black Widow program.

Zemo had discovered all of this and pinned the explosion at the UN on Natasha instead, backing it up from evidence he’d found tracking down remnants of the Red Room. Bucky almost refused to tell them the rest, especially when Natasha figured it out and abruptly left the room. Finally, after Steve had to force it out of him, he admitted that the Red Room had sent her to retrieve the serum instead.

Howard and Maria had been killed in the early nineties, but the circumstances were completely different than when Hydra had sent the Winter Soldier to retrieve the serum. Howard was still a public figure with a lot enemies, so while it was a sad day when they died, Steve hadn’t put much thought into who it could have been. He’d never imagined it was the Red Room, and that of all people, it had been _her_.

She’d taken it hard. Bucky had insisted she didn’t remember it, but that hadn’t made much a difference. It took her a long time to move past it, and it was the lowest Steve had seen her in decades, reminiscent of the way she’d spiraled in the years after the Snap.

Bucky had gone on to tell them that Natasha and Steve had gone after Zemo in an attempt to stop him, and when Tony followed and discovered the truth, all hell broke loose. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened, just that there was a brief fight that ended with Steve and Natasha escaping and breaking the rest of their team out of prison before falling off the grid.

They were on the run now. Clint and Scott had taken their plea deals, Wanda had gone off on her own, and he, Steve, Natasha, and Sam were laying low, running from the government and running ops from the shadows whenever they could. He’d only been able to get away since their little group was passing through Munich, and he’d been able to buy himself a few hours to come fill them in.

They’d had to be extra careful after the Accords, knowing any facial recognition would still pick them up if they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It kept them moving, something they were already used to, counting down the days until Thanos came to Earth for the stones.

Allowing that fight to happen without intervening hadn’t been easy. Not only did they have to watch from afar knowing what was about to happen, but they also weren’t sure if they’d be as lucky the second time. Plus, despite five years not seeming like much after everything they’d been through, they knew they were about to lose Bucky again. No amount of preparation had readied Steve for that.

It was easier to live through the second time, even if existing in a universe whose remaining population had no idea the situation wasn’t permanent was exhausting. But they were in the home stretch, and that in a few short years, they’d finally be able to reunite with their friends and continue where they’d left off before their little detour.

Besides, it wasn’t all bad. Not the last four years, at least.

There was one _especially_ good thing, one that had stood up from where he had been sitting by the lake and hurried over when he spotted the uncles they’d been telling him he’d get to meet soon. There was a light tug on the sleeve of Steve’s jacket, and he glanced down to see wide, bright blue eyes staring up at him. He bent down, and James leaned in close.

“Is Mama okay?” he whispered in his ear, and Steve pulled away, smiling and scooping him up into his arms.

“Of course she is.” He reached up and combed his fingers through James’ dark red curls, then turned back to Sam and Bucky. They were both gaping at him.  
“But she’s crying,” he protested, sticking out his little bottom lip as he watched Natasha worriedly.

“She’s just happy, Bud. She’s okay.”

“Were you two just _waiting_ for me to turn to dust so you could procreate?” Bucky asked incredulously. Steve huffed out a laugh.

“We knew the snap was comin’. Didn’t wanna risk it.” James snuggled in closer when he realized he was suddenly the center of attention. “This is Uncle Bucky and Uncle Sam. We told you about them, remember?” James nodded against the curve of Steve’s neck, peeking over at the two of them. Bucky suddenly snorted out a laugh.

“Uncle Sam,” he muttered under his breath, and Sam shot him a dirty look. “Of _course_ Captain America’s kid has an Uncle Sam.”

“What the _fuck_.”

James gasped, suddenly forgetting to be shy, and quickly looked over to Clint with wide eyes as he approached with Natasha, Bruce not far behind.

“That’s a bad word!” he whined, glancing helplessly over at Steve.

“Yep, that’s definitely your kid,” Sam muttered, and Steve groaned lowly. Natasha had taught him to do that as soon as he was old enough to understand what a swear word was.

“You have a _kid?”_ Clint said, rounding on Natasha. “How!?”

She just smirked at him, her eyes red and glittering with tears she must have wiped away before rejoining them. “You really want me to answer that?”

Clint glared at her.

“Fifteen seconds and you managed to bring Natasha back, get married, take down a Nazi organization, _and_ have a kid?” Bruce said wearily. Natasha must have filled them in. He shook his head. “I hope you managed to return the stones at some point?”

“All safe and sound,” Steve assured him.

“ _And_ I was wrong about the timelines, apparently.” Bruce sighed. “I need a nap.”

“Daddy,” James whispered urgently in Steve’s ear, his giant blue eyes widening again. “That’s the Hulk.”

“A Hulk fan, huh?” Clint replied, a smirk spreading across his face. “I guess junior doesn’t know about the time mom-“

“Don’t make me _ub'yu tebya_ in front of my kid,” Natasha hissed, effectively cutting him off. Steve swore he could see Bruce blush underneath the green. Natasha brushed past Sam and Bucky to pull James into her arms. “James, this is your Uncle Clint. He’s a jerk.”

James giggled, hiding his face in her hair. Steve caught Bucky’s eye, and he smiled at the surprised look on his face.

“Could have picked a better name,” Sam muttered under his breath with a slight upturn of his lips, and Bucky shot him a dirty look.

“Alright, well…” Bruce said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Guess I’ll go…pack up the…uh, time machine. So we can get out of here.”

He turned away with one last disbelieving glance between the three of them.

“So…I guess this explains the retirement,” Sam said, nodding down towards the shield that he’d slid back into its leather carrying case.

“I’ve been Captain America for a long time,” Steve agreed with a soft smile. “Too long. It’s time to move on.”

Sam returned his smile and nodded understandably. He turned his attention to the shield again, taking a long, deep breath before reaching down to zip up the case and pull it off the ground to sling around his shoulder. He followed Bruce, Bucky trailing behind them, leaving them alone with Clint.

“You know, the last time I saw you…” he began softly, his eyes lingering on James. “I never could have imagined…”

The corner of Natasha’s lips curved upwards, and she glanced over to James - who was still watching Bruce with a look of awe spread across his little features - with a fresh layer of unshed tears sparkling in her eyes. “Me either.”

“Well, Tiny Cap.” Clint held out his hand, getting James’ attention. He glanced over to Natasha, who gave him a nod of encouragement, and took Clint’s hand. He shook it lightly. “A pleasure meeting you. Your Auntie Laura is going to lose her _mind_ ,” he added, with a hard look at Natasha. She just huffed out a laugh and sat James down on the ground, kneeling down so she was eye level with him.

“Go with Uncle Clint, _malyshka._ We’ll catch up with you, _khorosho?”_

 _“Khorosho_ Mama,” James mumbled back, and she placed a soft kiss to his hair. He turned toward Clint, who held out his hand for James to take.

“You won’t _believe_ the stories I have about your mom, kid,” he said lowly as he led him towards the rest of the group. James giggled and started chattering away excitedly, completely forgetting to be nervous.

Natasha stood, and the second she was upright again, Steve reached over and pulled her towards him, eliciting a little noise of surprise from the back of her throat when he pressed his lips to hers.

“Were you just _waiting_ for them to start fawning over James so you could do that?” she mumbled, and Steve huffed out a laugh, leaving her with one last soft kiss before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

“Maybe,” he replied lowly with a grin.

He slid his hand up to brush her hair back from her face, suddenly distracted by how breathtakingly beautiful she looked. Her eyes sparkled impossibly bright green in the hazy sunlight, reflecting the trees surrounding them that had somehow survived the battle against Thanos. He let his hand fall to rest on the side of her face, brushing his thumb under her eye to wipe away the lingering wetness there.

She looked older than she had the last time they were here at the compound, though not by much, as the serum flowing through both of their veins had allowed them to age significantly slower than the average person. The biggest difference he saw was in her eyes, the pure happiness that he saw in them every time he looked at her, the way they crinkled a bit in the corners when she smiled or laughed, and the clearness in them that had come from decades of accepting herself and learning to be truly _happy_. Especially after they had James, something that was the topic of several years of careful discussion and planning and realizing that, somehow, the Red Room’s horrific procedures hadn’t been _entirely_ permanent, thanks to the serum.

After two whole lifetimes of fighting to protect the world James was going to grow up in, they could finally sit back and _enjoy_ it, surrounded by their friends and family once again.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, once he found his words again. She grinned, her smile brighter than the sun that shone down on them, and nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied softly, averting her gaze to watch James and Clint as they caught up with the rest of the group. “It’ll be fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Russian Translations:  
>  _ub'yu tebya_ \- kill you  
>  _malyshka_ \- baby  
>  _khorosho_ \- okay


End file.
